There's a view from my parents spare room window
That peers across the sea
You do have to stand on a bed to see it though
As its very difficult to see
But the great sight is well worth contortions
Breaking waves and sailing yachts
It’s a postcard scene of limited proportions
And its better than the one I've got
The sky, like no other blue I've seen
The seagulls territorial call
The whistling wind through trees serene
The clouds are cotton wool
The air is classic summer sea breeze
With the still chill of spring
It stops and lingers around the trees
And gives birds aid to wing
Your mood is changed by your surroundings
You can falsely romanticise
But when you return to familiar groundings
you can start to realise
I come into the spare room sometimes
When my thoughts are all askew
To hear the gently blown wind chimes
And it helps to balance my view
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